


you're as beautiful as endless

by harukatenoh



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, M/M, possibly?, this is really gay yikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5159414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harukatenoh/pseuds/harukatenoh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo learns how to fall in love, and it's something like looking into the sun, something like growing wings, something like the warmth of Elliot's hands in his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're as beautiful as endless

**Author's Note:**

> showing all results for: **wish fulfillment**
> 
> so last night i reread the pandora hearts ending and managed to write this through my tears. shoutout to mochizuki jun for murdering me
> 
> work title is from venus by sleeping at last

Leo doesn’t know when he starts noticing.

He doesn’t know when he becomes aware of Elliot’s gaze on him, when the blonde thinks Leo isn’t looking, a gaze so endless it intimidates Leo. He doesn’t know when he realizes how Elliot always leans into their contact more than normal, shoulders pressed together or wrists grabbed by hands, always held a heartbeat too long. He doesn’t know when he starts seeing, past the blur of his glasses and the golden lights in his vision, seeing the way Elliot softens around him occasionally, the way he practically melts when Leo pretends to look away, face full of an emotion Leo can’t pin.

(Can’t pin, or doesn’t want to pin.)

It’s a peculiar feeling, how Elliot _lingers_ , how his gaze lingers on Leo, something like awe and admiration in his eyes, how his hands linger on Leo’s when they involuntarily brush, leaving Elliot with clenched fists for minutes afterwards. Elliot always smiles brighter, laughs warmer, glares softer, when he’s around Leo, and if Leo is careful, he can see the shadow of something cross Elliot’s face sometimes, when his guard is down.

(But then, to call it a shadow would be incorrect, an injustice, because the look lights up Elliot’s face like the softer beams of sun in the morning, throwing his features  into a radiant haze.)

Sometimes, it’s a security, how Elliot smiles like Leo is his best secret, the picture he keeps in hands clasped behind his back. Leo lets himself enjoy it sometimes, the knowledge that Elliot can temper like this, that Leo can observe him without the other’s knowing. Sometimes, it’s a fear that Leo keeps locked away, the fear that Elliot will push him away, or worse, they’ll be forced apart. It had been scandal enough, that Elliot chose a common orphan boy as his servant, his shadow, his best friend, and Leo shudders to imagine what they’ll say when they find out Elliot is falling in love with that boy.

(Indeed, it is love that Leo sees in Elliot’s eyes, in the soft way his mouth turns up, in the open way he says Leo’s name. It scares Leo, more than anything, how Elliot sets himself alight like that, burning up of his own volition.)

True, they argue still, Elliot’s face turning sharp and fiery in that overflowing way while Leo shakes with barely contained cold anger streaked across his own features. They shout, sometimes scream, working their way towards each other until they’re close enough to feel the other’s breathing, close enough to reach out and feel the other’s heartbeat.

The arguments resolve quickly, Leo and Elliot being as good at making up as they are falling out, mumbled apologies or exasperated forgiveness traded in a blink of the eye. It’s a rhythm, a constant tug of war, even if neither of them are sure what they’re fighting over. Despite their frequency and tendency to get out of hand, spiralling faster than Leo can catch, the disputes don’t get in the way of this strange, new behaviour of Elliot’s.

(As to whether it’s new, Leo can’t be sure. Perhaps it’s always been there, and Leo has only noticed now.)

Maybe Elliot has always been so vulnerable, putting all of his being into everything he does, living life so impossibly bright that Leo wants to look away sometimes. Elliot’s eyes are so open, his gaze on Leo so readable, his insistence undeniable. Leo doesn’t know when the blue of Elliot’s eyes start embodying freedom for him, the strange freedom Elliot is soaked in, the freedom of the reeling sky and screaming emotions and pulsing life, doesn’t know when he starts craving it.

Doesn’t know when he starts returning the gazes, watching the golden-spun locks of hair shift with each movement of Elliot’s head, soft and floating in the gentle breezes, or how his gaze trains on Elliot’s hands tapping out a rhythm, always tapping out a rhythm. The music doesn’t leave Elliot, and it entrances Leo all the more, how those notes build up inside Elliot and pour out in soft melodies, enough to make Leo’s heart ache. He doesn’t realize, too busy caught up in Elliot’s fall, to realize his own, how he gets lost in Elliot’s blue gaze, sometimes clear and piercing like the sky, sometimes raging and storming like the sea.

Watching somebody fall in love with you can distract easily, like it distracts Leo, making sure he doesn’t realize his own feelings until it’s too late.

(Or maybe, just the right time.)

The night is cold, Elliot soon calling Leo over so he can curl up against his warmth.

(Leo has always been so warm, though he could never comprehend why, how somebody like him could emanate such heat.)

Lying on his side, Elliot has an arm slung over Leo’s chest, legs bunched up to his own stomach, the other hand finding it’s way intertwined into some strands of Leo’s hair. Leo is staring straight up at the ceiling, catching the sleepy, unboundedly fond and loving look Elliot gives him as he mumbles about his day in his periphery, as Elliot fills their silence with small talk. The sound of Elliot’s voice is soothing, flowing off his tongue like a river, and Leo finds himself curling towards Elliot.

His forehead bumps against something, and it’s Elliot’s own forehead, Leo having overshot his turn to the side. Elliot gazes up into Leo’s eyes, and Leo is sure it’s the first time Elliot has used one of _those_ looks to Leo’s face.

(What he doesn’t know is he’s mirroring the look, wonder and love and some apprehension filling his purple eyes.)

Elliot’s hand moves from Leo’s hair to his face, holding Leo in place while Elliot moves forward, achingly slow.

Leo is expecting the kiss, but he’s still thrown off balance, the soft press of his lips to Elliot’s the natural progression in some ways and the biggest leap in the world in others. Elliot tastes like the oranges he just ate, his mouth soft, gentler than Leo thought he could be.

(When Leo had imagined kissing Elliot, he’d always thought it would be with the fire that Elliot argued with, that Elliot lived with. Maybe that is to come, but for now, he would gladly have the gentle, lingering kiss Elliot is offering.)

When Elliot pulls back, the fire in his eyes has died, replaced with a subtler, but still as strong, shine. He smiles, full of marvel and bewilderment, then breaks into a soft laugh.

“I didn’t think it would be that easy.” He whispers, like he’s sharing a secret with Leo, and maybe he is.

Leo nods back, not willing to break the moment with his voice, not trusting his voice to say what he wants to say. Elliot pulls back further from Leo, turning onto his back with another breathy laugh.

Leo does the same, and then in precise synchronization, they reach for each other’s hands, meeting in the middle with a clash of fingers. After they navigate their fingers to interlace, they lie there, hand in hand, veins running with the fire of love in them, and Leo sees that blue sky Elliot contains in his eyes, and the unwritten harmonies tucked away in his fingers. Elliot sees the golden sparks in the purple of Leo’s eyes, lighting up the dark colour like Leo lit up every room he walks into.

Elliot’s sneaked gazes only increase from then, except they aren’t sneaked any more, he now stares at Leo openly, bringing a flush to Leo’s cheeks. Leo can now trace the piano notes beside Elliot, seated on the piano bench together, shoulder to shoulder, watching Elliot’s hands move and following with his own. They don’t play alone anymore, the music sounds too empty without the echo or harmony the other supplies. They don’t do much alone anymore, but that isn’t too different from how it was before, Leo by Elliot’s side always. Things in general don’t change from before, the kiss simply sealing the deal that had been set in stone long, long ago.

(They had both fallen, long before, except it was less like falling, and more like they had eased into it, softly, subtly, neither of them noticing until it was too late.

Or maybe, just the right time.)


End file.
